Off Kilter
by justinegraham
Summary: Cultural immersion has definite advantages. Happy Birthday to the one and only Erin Darroch! Post-ROTJ, rated M for mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Off Kilter**

By Justine Graham

 **A/N:** Happy, happy birthday to my partner-in-fic-writing-crime and BFF, the lovely erindarroch. You mentioned on the Discord chat that someone should write a fic in which Han Solo is made to wear a kilt, and Leia's all eyes. Your wish is my command, my dear friend. I hope you enjoy!

PS: This writing solo (heh) stuff is _still_ bollocks. There's no magical elves to make everything pretty, and it's plain _NOT FUN._ Stop having birthdays, willya? ;)

PPS: Many thanks to JennyCBS for the beta and to Scruffy'sSweetheart for the final read-through, and for being great all-round cheerleaders.

Chapter 1 

Han lingered in the hallway while the uniformed porter propped open the door for Leia to pass through, and then offered him a polite nod and stepped past him into the vestibule of the suite. He paused there while Leia ventured deeper into the spacious room, feeling a twinge of guilt watching the short, stout human wrestle the first of their travel cases from atop the repulsor cart that sat humming in the corridor. The bags were unusually heavy, packed with an array of apparel to suit a variety of weather conditions, in addition to the dress uniforms and formal gowns needed to see them both through the long list of dinners and cocktail parties planned for this week-long official visit to Anclosdt III.

The stocky fellow— _Drael,_ the gilded badge on his colourful sash proclaimed in Basic and Aurebesh—was already red-faced and sweating from transferring the bags from the speeder to the repulsor cart upon their arrival. By the time he was halfway through his first slow trek to the door of the suite weighted down with one of the cumbersome cases, beads of perspiration had begun to roll down his forehead and his breathing had become a laboured wheeze.

"You know, I _could_ you help with those," Han said dryly.

Huffing with with exertion, the porter raised his free hand in a gesture of forestalling. "Absolutely not, General," he managed between breaths, the rolling lilt of his accent sounding mildly aghast. "You are our—".

"Honoured guest," Han interjected, crossing his arms over his chest as the porter shuffled past. "Yeah, that's what everybody keeps sayin' around here. But I ain't gonna be too _honoured_ to watch you keel over, pal."

"It is my duty to make your stay a pleasant one, and— _ooof_." He deposited the piece in the vestibule with a grunt and then stepped back and mopped at his beaded brow with a folded handkerchief tugged from his jacket pocket. "Please," he said, gesturing with one hand toward the main part of the suite. "Look around, and make yourselves at home while I attend to the remainder."

Han shrugged with resignation and, hooking his thumbs in his belt, ventured a little further into the suite. He turned in a slow circle in place, taking in his first look at their temporary accommodations with genuine admiration. It was evident that great care had been taken to preserve and showcase the authentic architecture of the centuries-old estate during its recent post-war restoration to the luxury hotel it was today. Though updated and decorated in the clean lines and neutral tones of a modern style, the suite retained its original vaulted beamed ceilings, rustic stone floors, and polished wooden wainscoting harkening back to days long past. It was quaint with an air of elegance, a perfect mix of old and new that was warm, charming, and instantly welcoming.

Hearing another heavy grunt from the vestibule, Han looked up in time to see Drael drop another bag beside the first. Then, daubing anew at the beads of sweat that trickled down his forehead, he crossed the suite to stand at Han's shoulder.

"Beautiful, is it not?" he asked between huffs of breath, gazing around the room with a reverent expression.

"Yeah," Han returned. "Pretty hard to believe there was almost nothin' left of it just a few months ago."

The diminutive human turned to focus on Han, a thoughtful smile rounding his pudgy cheeks.

"Ah, but it's true," he said eagerly, no doubt grateful for the chance to engage his guest in conversation, and catch his breath. "Tell me, General; what do you know of our history?"

"It's clan-oriented. Planet's all divided into territories, each one with its own representative."

"Yes," Drael nodded, beaming a wide smile. "All presided over by a single _Katrra_ —a high chief, if you will, with authority over all. This," he said, spreading his short arms as wide as he could, "was the proud home of every ruling _Katrra_ for generations, until the planet fell to Imperial rule."

He sighed and shook his head. "When the Empire came, this estate, the very symbol of our heritage, was nearly reduced to rubble. Our government was dissolved, our leaders killed or driven underground. It was a dark time in our planet's great history."

Han pursed his lips and nodded. "Familiar tune."

"The Empire tried to erase our legacy," Drael continued, "but thanks to the Alliance, our way of life has been restored. And with it, the magnificence of this splendid estate. It stands now as a testament to our past, and beacon for our future. A future that _you_ allowed us to hope for once more. For that, we are forever grateful."

"Yeah. And that's why we're here, I guess. Leia tells me—". He glanced around the confines of the suite, realizing then that Leia was nowhere to be seen. "Leia?"

"Unless I am mistaken, Her Highness has found one of the highlights of this particular suite," Drael said, indicating the door of the adjoining bedroom with a jerk of his chin. He tipped forward at the waist in as reasonable a bow as his barrel shape would permit and then straightened, tugging at the hem of his jacket to cover his rounded belly. "And now, if you will excuse me, General," he said with a sharp nod, "I must attend to the remainder of the bags."

Leaving Drael to continue his work in peace, Han wandered into the bedroom, noting that the design details of the expansive room were just as impressive as in the rest of the suite. The furnishings were tasteful yet understated, carefully chosen to augment but not detract from the main feature of the room—a bank of windows that covered the whole of the western-facing wall of the suite, flooding the room with an abundance of natural light. In their centre, a pair of glassine-paneled doors leading to a wide terrace stood open to the afternoon air. The warm breeze that drifted in stirred the gossamer curtains there, permeating the air inside the room with the fresh, green scent of the outdoors.

"Leia?" he called. "You out there?"

"Yes." Her voice drifted in with the breeze from the wide stone balcony just visible beyond the open doors. "Here."

Following the sound of her voice, Han crossed the room, and stepped out onto the sunlit terrace, and what he before him stopped him in his tracks.

Leia stood before the stone balustrade, leaning both elbows on the rough stone surface with her chin propped on her clasped hands, gazing out over the manicured gardens to the horizon beyond. One thin strap of the light dress she wore had slipped from her shapely shoulder, and she had freed her hair from its loose chignon at the back of her head. The brilliance of the planet's three small suns reflected in the auburn waves that spilled down her back, radiating tones of vibrant copper and burnished red, and gave her normally pale skin a golden, radiant glow. Han stood rooted to the spot, torn between the sudden desire to press his lips to that creamy skin and feel the silken strands of her hair slip through his fingers, and simply staring in awestruck wonder at the ethereal vision of her framed by the extraordinary view beyond the terrace.

And what a view it was. Perched alone on a small tidal island, the grand estate was surrounded on all sides by the cold, pristine waters of two converging sea lakes. Limned in sunlight, the landscape was breathtaking, offering an impressive display of the sublime perfection of colour: rugged grey, vibrant green and deep indigo blue set against a pristine veil of the most vivid azure sky Han had ever seen.

Leia turned to look over her shoulder then, her shining eyes lighting upon him with a contented smile gracing the corners of her lips. She angled away from the balustrade and extended a hand in wordless invitation.

Han closed the distance between them in a few long strides and draped an arm around her shoulder. In turn, she slipped hers around his waist, relaxing into him with the easy intimacy that existed between them now. Comforting and familiar, their closeness felt as natural and beautiful as the sun-dappled landscape beyond the balustrade, and for a long moment they simply stood together in companionable silence taking in the incredible sight.

They'd seen holographs of Anclosdt's towering mountains and crystal clear waters during the primer on the planet's history and culture they'd received in advance of their visit, but nothing had prepared them for the true beauty of the isolated planet. In truth, _amazing_ didn't even being to describe it. Itdid, however, describe the circumstances under which they found themselves here, on this tiny speck of a planet on the farthest fringes of the Outer Rim.

The call for representatives of the New Republic to visit Anclosdt III had come as a surprise to the entirety of the fledgling government's administration. In recognition of the New Republic's liberation of their planet from beneath the yoke of Imperial servitude in the months following the Battle of Endor, the ruling chieftain had done something that had never been done before in the planet's history. He had decreed the creation of a _new_ clan, inducting the New Republic into a place of honour among their people with those who played a pivotal role in the destruction of the second Death Star—Han, Chewie, Lando and Leia—acting as its representatives. The recognition was graciously received, but with Lando on assignment rooting out Imperial holdouts in the Tion Cluster, the duty of acceptance fell to the remaining three. Chewie was delayed with family matters on Kashyyyk, but was expected the following day. Until then, it was just the two of them.

In truth, Han relished some time alone with Leia. In the nearly eight standard months that had passed since the pivotal Battle of Endor, such moments were rare indeed, and a precious commodity in this busy post-war rebuilding period. They were to be savoured, and he planned to enjoy every minute of it—even if it did mean enduring sweltering dress uniforms, scratchy shirt collars and a week filled with sweaty handshakes and smiling until his face hurt.

At his side, he felt Leia's shoulders hitch as she drew a deep breath, and then released it in a sigh. "We needed this," she murmured, as if echoing his thoughts. " _I_ needed this."

Han angled his head down and pressed a kiss into her hair and then rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Me too."

"It gets so busy that it's easy to lose sight of what we're doing. What we've _done_. But then, we end up somewhere like this...and it's so clear." She shifted around to face him fully, lifted her arms to wrap around his neck and tipped her face to his. "This is what we worked so hard for, Han. Places like this. Moments like this."

She stretched up on tiptoe and they shared a lingering kiss. It still managed to make his head spin, the way she kissed him now. Whether brief and furtive, passionate and bold, or gentle and unhurried like this, Leia imbued every kiss with the energy of her devotion—so raw and genuine that the experience of it made his heart clench inside his chest and suffused his entire being with a warm and pleasant glow. And what he felt in return was so deeply intense, so all-encompassing that it overwhelmed him if he stopped to think about it long enough. Not for the first time in the past few months, he gave himself a mental pinch to be certain that he was really here, and the glorious feeling of her small frame in his arms and the warmth of her lips against his was real and not the cruel offering of a carbonite-static mind.

"And I'm grateful for the chance to spend some time alone with you," she sighed when they finally parted. "I _miss_ you. We live in the same apartment now, yet days go by where we hardly even see each other."

"Yeah. I know it ain't gonna be forever, but it's hell for now." He cocked his head in contemplation and then smiled. "Tell you what. We don't have anywhere to be for a couple of hours. I'll go grab the bags from the hall and help you get your gowns hung up so they don't wrinkle. Then we'll order up some wine, and relax for a while. Just you and me."

Leia pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw and then subsided, her palms sliding down over his shoulders to rest against his chest as she took a step back. "That sounds perfect."

Han dipped down to brush a kiss across her forehead. "Sure does. Be right back."

Passing through the main part of the suite on his way to the vestibule, Han's eye was drawn to two large, flat boxes stacked together on the damask settee in the sitting area.

"Leia?" he called over his shoulder. "There's some stuff here that ain't ours. Looks like our friend Drael mighta dropped off somebody else's junk by mistake."

Han paused near the bags in the vestibule as Leia emerged from the bedroom, made her way to the settee and lighted on the edge. "There's no mistake," she said, her voice registering a note of confusion. "This box has my name on it." She pushed the edge of the topmost box aside to peer at the one underneath. "And this one has yours."

"Huh." Leaving the bags where the were, Han joined Leia in the sitting area. "Don't wait for me," he grinned. sinking down into one of the high-backed chairs. "Let's see what we got."

Leia lifted the top of the box, and drew a sharp breath. "Oh my stars," she breathed. "It's _gorgeous_."

She reached both hands into the box and then rose to her feet at the side of the settee, holding a dress that was as much reminiscent of a former time as the estate itself. Fashioned from a matte fabric in a pale shade of cream, the garment had a laced bodice, quarter-length sleeves that widened into pleated cuffs, and a full skirt gathered to mid-thigh at one edge, revealing an inset panel in a criss-crossed pattern of horizontal and vertical bands underneath. Han recognized the patterning as the unique hallmark of a clan, though he'd never seen this combination of hues before. He could tell in an instant that the colour and the fit would look spectacular on Leia's small frame.

"And there's some sort of sash, in the same material," she said, holding the dress against her body with one arm while reaching down into the box with the other to withdraw the swatch of colourful fabric. Her brows knit in bewilderment. "And shoes, accessories...and a holocube."

"Lemme see." Shifting to the edge of his chair, Han reached across the low table that separated them and snagged the cube from the box. He turned it over in his hands, examining it from all sides before triggering the device and setting it down on the tabletop.

As the playback began, Leia eased the dress back into its box and sank down to the settee beside it. "That's Barr Treysk," she said, nodding toward the image that appeared before them. "Ruler of the clans. I know him from the holographs."

Han made a small sound of acknowledgement, recognizing the face of the Anclosdti leader as well. Though the image flickered and warped, the native humanoid's greyish skin, flattened nasal structure and distinctive, wide-set amber eyes were unmistakable.

"Honoured guests," the being intoned, dipping his head in reverence. "To you both, I bid a most sincere welcome."

Han leaned in, straining to catch the words spoken in the heavy, rolling tones of the Anclosdti native's deep voice.

"I had hoped to greet you and deliver these personally upon your arrival, but regrettably, I have business matters that require my presence. In my absence, please accept these gifts as small token of our esteem. They are traditional garments for tonight's reception, in the style reserved for celebrations of the highest significance."

Han narrowed his eyes at the holo, huffing in annoyance. "Is he speakin' Basic? That accent of his is damn near impossible to understand."

" _Shhh_ ," Leia urged, leaning in close and cocking an ear toward the holocube. "It helps if you _listen_."

"In recognition of this historic event," the holo continued, "a unique pattern to represent the new clan has been designed especially for you. The colours were chosen with purpose: white, to honour Her Highness and the Royal house of Alderaan; green, for the noble Chewbacca and the forests of Kashyyyk; black, for the ebony deserts of General Calrissian's homeworld of Socorro; and, lastly, red, representing the heart of the Anclosdti people who owe their lives to your selfless acts of bravery."

" _Lastly_?" Han looked to Leia and raised an incredulous eyebrow. "What, do I not—".

"And let us not forget you, General Solo," Treysk's likeness continued with a wide smile, baring rows of jagged white teeth. "You have been commemorated as well, in a unique manner of which I'm certain you'll approve. It is my sincere wish that you accept these gifts, and wear them in good health. I look forward to meeting you both this evening."

The holo faded to black then, and Han slumped against the cushioned chair back and stared at the now-silent cube. "Wow. Sounds like they're goin' all out."

"Open yours," Leia urged, lifting the topmost box for him to take the one beneath.

"I reckon it can't get much worse than itchy, depressing Alliance grey," Han remarked, sliding the box from the settee into his lap. He removed the lid, and set it on floor beside the chair while he inspected the contents. At first he didn't quite understand what it was he was looking at. But when he unfolded the article at the top of the stack, realization dawned with a jolt. All at once, he felt as though his stomach had dropped squarely into the toes of his boots.

"What? What is it?" Leia prompted.

"I was wrong. It's worse." He shook the garment out and lifted it up for Leia to see, holding it away from him at arm's length as if it were was an object of scorn.

"Oh, it's lovely."

Han focused his disbelieving gaze on her as if she'd suddenly started speaking in Shyriiwook. "Lovely? Leia, It's a damn _skirt_."

"It's not a skirt, Han," she chided. "You heard Treysk. It's traditional ceremonial dress."

" _Dress_ being the operative word."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop," she said in a mildly chastising tone.

"Trust me, Sweetheart, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. If they expect me to prance around in that getup, I'm out. Throttle down, full stop."

"The Anclosdti haven't initiated a new clan in centuries, Han," Leia said, pursing her lips in a thin line. "This is unprecedented. It's the highest honour that they could bestow."

"Yeah? Well, they can honour me in _trousers_ ," he said flatly.

"They've clearly put a lot of time and effort into this," Leia continued unabated, reaching out to snag the garment from from his slack grip. She held it aloft in one hand, while trailing a finger along the broken line of yellow piping adorning one of its side seams with the other. "Did you see? _Bloodstripes_. That's an incredible gesture of respect for your contribution, Han. The proper thing to do—the _diplomatic_ thing—is to accept with good grace."

"I ain't the diplomat here. _You_ are."

"It's much lighter fabric than your dress uniform," Leia ventured. "And you must admit the colour scheme is stunning."

"I don't care about the colour scheme, " Han groused, snatching the skirt back out of her hand.

Silently though, he had to acknowledge that Leia was right—the Anclosdti designers _had_ done remarkable work. The yellow shading of the Bloodstripes was perfect, augmenting and enriching the mixed palette of the soft wool fabric. But he wasn't about to admit any such observations to Leia, and he wasn't about to parade about in it for anyone else to observe, either.

"The answer to _this_ ," he said, shaking the garment for effect, "is _no_."

Leia gave him an imploring look. "But you haven't even seen the rest of the outfit yet."

"And I ain't gonna see it, either. Even I got limits, Leia." He made a show of dropping the garment into the box, and then tossed the lot back onto the settee beside her with an air of finality. " _That's_ one of 'em."

Holding Leia's gaze, he saw her dark eyes flash and a slow smile begin to spread itself across her face. She rose to her feet and slid warmly into his lap, winding her arms around his neck once more and then leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"But you'll look so _incredibly handsome_ …." she said, nipping her way across the angle of his jaw to murmur in his ear.

Despite the shudder the warm rush of her breath sent careening down his spine, Han held his head proudly upright and stood his ground. "Nice try. Sweet talkin' ain't gonna work this time."

Leia drew back and cocked her head thoughtfully. "There are advantages, Flyboy," she pointed out, weighting her voice with possibility. "Think about it. This may be my one and only chance to slip a hand under _your_ skirt for a change."

"Ah, see?" He brought a hand up between them and stabbed the air with an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. "You just said it yourself. _Skirt_."

Leia shook her head. "You're overreacting. It's _culture_ , Han," she sighed as she hopped down from his lap. "I won't force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you know that. I just wish there was something I could say to make you change your mind."

"My mind is made up, Leia," Han said with an air of finality. "Nothin' you say is gonna make me put on that skirt. _Nothin'_."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Leaning in toward to her image in the mirror, Leia lifted a hand to the corner of her bottom lip, whisking away an errant smudge of lipstick with a sweep of her finger. Dinner was completed, and the time for bidding goodbye to the guests as they filed out for the evening was drawing near. Wanting to look her best, Leia had excused herself and headed to the private guest fresher and lounge that had been allocated for their use exclusively for the duration of the evening. As she touched up her makeup in the ornate mirror, she had to admit that she relished the respite of a few quiet moments to herself. It had been a busy evening of non-stop mingling and conversation, and it wasn't quite over yet.

She stepped back from the mirror then and studied her reflection with a smile. The traditional gown she wore was beautifully fitted, the laced bodice accentuating her trim figure and the colours contrasting perfectly with her fair skin and dark hair. She tucked away an errant strand that had escaped from her elaborate corona of braids, and then gave her reflection a final, satisfied nod.

Scooping up her clutch from atop the lounge's comfortable-looking chaise and tucking away her lipstick, she drew a steadying breath and stepped out of the fresher and into the noise of the busy hallway beyond. Around her, the corridor was abuzz with libation-fueled post-dinner conversation, a myriad of language and laughter that combined in a muddled drone of sound that was, even for a practiced linguist such as herself, barely intelligible. Still, fragments of conversation managed to cut through the auditory haze as she weaved her way in and out among the beings gathered there to enjoy an after-dinner drink and discussion.

"...General Solo _._ He's _gorgeous_ , and charming too. Did you see..."

"And that _dress_...she looks a vision."

"...beautiful couple. So _perfect_ for each other..."

Leia pondered over that snippet as she continued on down the carpeted corridor. She gave a soft chuff of laughter, marveling at how very peculiar it still felt to hear her relationship with Han spoken about so openly, let alone described in such succinct terms.

Had anyone told her when meeting the abrasive Corellian for the first time amid a hail of Imperial fire that their relationship would become the bright centre of her universe and he the gravity that held her world locked in its steadying orbit, she wouldn't have believed it. But as the years passed, that was exactly what had happened. In spite of the heated arguments and bitter words that sometimes passed between them—or perhaps because of them, each fraught moment having led inexorably to a deeper understanding of one another in their resolution—they'd grown closer.

It wasn't anything either of them had acknowledged outright, not at first. In fact, they'd wasted plenty of time trying to renounce the existence of their feelings for each other at all, until the trip to Bespin forced them to confront the truth about themselves that they'd gone to such lengths to deny. But in the wake of that pivotal journey, there had been a fundamental shift. It was as if the discordant haze of fear and uncertainty that had swirled between them for so long had lifted, allowing them to finally see each other clearly for the first time. They were in love, connected by a bond forged through time and strengthened through circumstance, and accepted each other without reservation. The differences that once seemed obstacles were now the things that strengthened them, the keystones that held their relationship in balance. They might not be the _perfect_ couple, she mused as she neared the end of the corridor, but they had made considerable strides together on the path to getting there.

Reaching the wide double doors that opened into the banquet hall, she stepped inside and stood for a moment, scanning the assembled guests for Han's familiar profile. She smiled when her gaze finally found him tucked away in the far corner of the room, and she took a moment to simply observe him from afar. He was deep in conversation with another guest, and Leia looked on with quiet pride as he nodded in acknowledgement and flashed his signature charismatic smile. Han in full charming mode was a sight to behold, turning heads and captivating any being who engaged him with his irresistible combination of geniality and good humour.

No to mention—he looked downright _delicious_ in that skirt.

 _Saiot_ was the proper term, she corrected herself with a low chuckle. She still couldn't quite believe that he'd donned the traditional garb, and without a further word on the subject from her. Clean shaven and with his damp hair still in disarray, she had left Han eyeing the dress uniform she'd laid out for him on the bed while she ventured into the fresher for her turn in the shower. She'd lingered longer than usual under the cool spray, enjoying the welcome reprieve from the heat of the terrace where they'd spent a lazy afternoon together. Datapad in hand, Leia had given them both a crash course in Anclosdti customs while sharing wine and comfortable conversation, peppered with more than a few molten kisses that made the warmth of the trio of suns burn even hotter.

Emerging from the fresher, she was astonished to find Han already half-dressed—and not in his uniform, but in the colourful, custom-made native garment instead. The remaining contents of the box had been strewn across the bed and he was poised beside it, hands planted on his hips, gazing down at the strange assortment of accessories as if trying to solve an intricate puzzle in an unfamiliar language. He'd glanced up at her approach, and the look that passed between them when his eyes met hers had quickly culled the teasing comment poised on her tongue. It was a look of quiet understanding, a softly whispered _this is for you, Sweetheart_ , combined with the veiled caution of _don't you say a word_ and a dash of his playful _I expect to be well paid_ leer, all underscored by a glimmer of deep emotion that conveyed his innermost thoughts more eloquently than any words ever could.

And so she'd answered in kind, silently giving him a warm, approving smile and brushing a gentle kiss across his cheek before letting the matter rest. Her heart near to bursting, she had gone on with her own preparations for the evening then as if nothing were amiss, as if Han hadn't just taken yet another giant step forward in a series of monumental strides away from the safety and security of his own familiar world toward the uncharted territory that was hers.

In fact, she had astutely held back _any_ observations at all before departing for the banquet hall, lest she send him scrambling for the relative comfort of his dress uniform in record time. And they'd been so busy making small talk at dinner, listening to endless speeches of gratitude and mingling with the assembled guests over cocktails since then that she'd barely had the chance to do anything more than offer a smile in his direction. No time for stolen kisses, no chance to tell him how deeply his gesture had touched her, or that he looked so handsome it practically made her teeter on her already-precarious heels.

She raked her eyes over him from head to toe, lingering with appreciation at the detail and fit of the Anclosdti garb. The short black jacket he wore was well-tailored and snug in all the right places, perfectly accentuating the tapering lines of his lean-muscled frame from shoulder to hip. Adorned with a row of silver buttons along each inside edge, the jacket was designed to be worn open, revealing a row of matching closures on the close-fitting waistcoat underneath. Barely dropping below the waist of the knee-length _saiot_ in front, the angled cut of the jacket arrowed her gaze downward to the polished cantle of a decorative pouch that hung suspended from a gleaming silver chain slung low around his lean hips. Leia smiled, recalling his grumbling reaction to the idea of carrying a _purse_ on top of being decked out in a skirt. Though he cracked a disparaging comment, the small leather bag had turned out to have a practical use: it was the perfect size for the petite holdout blaster he always carried when stripped of his usual DL-44. That, and the traditional black knife tucked into one of the cuffed ivory knee socks that completed the ensemble at least afforded him some measure of comfort. He still felt like a fool, he groused, but at least he wasn't a helpless one.

As if sensing her presence and the weight of her admiring gaze upon him, Leia saw Han angle his head in her direction and he caught her eye, giving her a half-smile in the process. Her stomach fluttering, she watched as he turned his attention back to his companion and then, giving the Anclosdti female a final parting nod, turned away from the bar. He side-stepped around the beings in his path and made his way to her side, the long, colourful square of fringed wool pinned to his shoulder by a jeweled brooch swaying at his back as he moved. It was a glorious sight, stopping her heart with a solid thump and resetting it at a slightly higher tempo.

"I see you've managed to charm the Minister of Defense now, too," Leia mused aloud when he reached her side. "What were you two talking about?"

Han gave a small shrug. "No idea. Her accent's so damn thick, I didn't understand half of what she said. All I did was nod and hope I didn't agree to enlist or somethin'."

Leia snorted a laugh. "Let's hope not."

"Well, Sweetheart?" Han asked, straightening the cuffs of his short jacket and tugging down the hem. "I for one am ready to get us _both_ the hell out of these dresses. You ready for the final show of the evening?"

Perhaps it was the brilliance of the smile that he offered her then, or the way his hazel eyes held hers with such genuine affection that it made her throat tighten to see it. Perhaps it was just how utterly attractive he looked standing there, bravely decked out in an outfit he clearly despised but had donned anyway simply because he knew it would make her happy. Whatever it was, it intensified the fluttering in her stomach into a full-on thrum. And when he slipped his arm around her shoulder, his fingertips grazing the nape of her neck and leaving a tingling trail of sensation in their wake, it sparked a shiver of longing that started at her toes and rapidly coursed upward throughout the length of her body.

She closed her eyes, the tiny thrills left behind by his touch sending her mind veering off into places it had no business going in the midst of a formal function. She wanted to launch herself at Han, to run her hands up the length of his bare, muscled thighs, drag his mouth to hers and kiss him senseless. But she was a diplomat, a leader, a representative of the New Republic; she couldn't just give in to impulse in full view of a room full of beings. She gave her head a shake, trying to quell the nearly irresistible urge. They were, quite literally, all dressed up with no place to go.

 _Unless…._

Seized by a sudden jolt of inspiration, she reached out and snagged his hand.

"No," she said with a shake of her head, tugging him in the direction of the exit. "Not just yet."

"What are we—".

"Don't ask questions," she replied. "Just follow me."

Leia forged a careful path through the milling guests to the entryway. Thankfully, the corridor beyond had begun to clear. Only a few guests remained lingering over their cocktails, and most of them appeared oblivious as she led the way back in the direction from which she'd just traveled. Reaching the door of the private fresher, she released Han's hand and then keyed in the entry code, tapping the sole of her heeled foot while the door slid open with a faint whisper of sound.

She stepped inside and tossed the clutch she held onto the nearest chair, and then glanced over her shoulder to where Han stood, half in and half out of the room, gazing at her with an amused expression.

"Get in here, and make sure the door seals shut behind you."

Han raised a curious eyebrow but did as he was instructed. He stepped over the threshold and then angled around to hit the door release, before turning to face her with a wry smile.

"We're _supposed_ to be headin' out to the front foyer right about now," he drawled as the door slid closed behind him. "Mind tellin' me why you're draggin' me off in the opposite direction?" The hungry gleam in his darkened eyes left little doubt that he already knew _exactly_ what she had in mind, while his low, suggestive tone played havoc with her already heightened senses.

"They can wait a few more minutes," she returned. "I can't."

She planted both hands on this chest and pressed him back against the closed door, and then stretched up on tiptoe to capture his mouth with heated urgency. Han responded with alacrity, slipping his arms around her and diving down to meet her halfway, devouring her lips in a hungry kiss that left her dizzy, breathless, and wanting more.

Driven by the urgent need to feel the press of his firm body against hers, she slipped a hand between them and fumbled for the clasp of the silver chain around his hips and released it, letting the small leather bag that was wedged tightly between them fall to the floor at her feet. She toed it aside blindly and, feeling the low thrum of desire deep in her core flare hot and urgent once more, allowed her hands to roam freely over his body with abandon.

"If I'd known this was how you were you're gonna react when I put on a skirt," he chuckled, nibbling his way across her jaw to catch her earlobe between his teeth, "I'da done it way sooner."

Leia made a low sound deep in her throat and, lifting both arms, brought her hands up to frame his face and guided his mouth back to hers. She swept her tongue along the curve of his lower lip and then delved deeper, savouring all of him at once: the smoky flavour of fine Corellian whiskey that lingered on his tongue, the feeling of his firm body pressed intimately against hers and the heady, musky scent of him that enveloped her senses and suffused her entire body with heat.

"I'm glad you didn't," she murmured when they parted on a sigh. "If you'd worn _this_ outfit on Hoth, you'd have frozen off certain...key attributes." As she spoke, she slid a teasing hand between them with purpose, giving his rapidly growing length a gentle squeeze through the soft wool. "Features that I've grown to like _very_ much."

Encouraged by the low growl that escaped him then, Leia grew bolder. She dipped one hand beneath the hem of his _saiot_ and trailed her fingertips lightly upward along his inner thigh at the same time as she angled her head and offered the curve of her throat to his roaming lips _._

"You know," Han muttered between kisses, "I did a little research of my own while you were in the shower this afternoon."

"Mmmm…?" Skimming her fingers higher still, Leia tipped her head back and breathed a soft moan, lost in the feeling of his warm lips and the rush of his breath that prickled her skin.

He peppered her throat with soft kisses as he continued. "Yeah. Interesting stuff. Did you know what an Anclosdti clansman wears under his traditional _saiot_ has been a closely guarded secret from off-worlders for centuries?"

Leia sucked in a breath as her wandering hand reached the pinnacle of its upward journey, her fingertips grazing against warm, rigid, and very bare flesh. She drew back in surprise to meet Han's playful gaze, his changeable eyes sparkling with an irresistible combination of heated desire and jubilant mirth.

"Congratulations, Sweetheart," Han drawled. "You just joined a _very_ exclusive club."

Her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs, Leia arched an eyebrow. "Well," she mused, giving a soft laugh at the audible hitch in his breath as her fingers skimmed lightly over his velvety soft skin in a gentle caress. "Aren't I the lucky one?"

"Not half as lucky as you're gonna be." As he spoke, he nudged her hand away and then gripped her shoulders lightly, steering her toward the plushly-upholstered chaise lounge near the centre of the room.

"And just when were you planning on telling me about this rather significant tidbit of cultural enlightenment?" she quipped as she settled back on the chaise.

"I wasn't," he grinned as he eased himself down, balancing his weight on bent elbows as he covered her body with his own. "I knew you'd find out for yourself before the end of the night."

"Oh?" And just how were you so sure?"

"Because I _know_ you, Sweetheart." He dropped his head to press a meandering line of kisses along her jaw to her ear, open-mouthed and hot against her skin. "We've been to these kind of events half a dozen times in as many months, and you can _never_ keep your hands off me for an entire evening."

"That's not true," Leia countered weakly. _Was it?_ Between the rush of his warm breath in her ear and the tantalizing sensation of his work-roughened fingers that had found their way beneath the hem of her long skirt, it was getting difficult to think straight.

"Sure it is," Han muttered, nuzzling at the sensitive spot behind her ear while he shifted his weight to his side, fumbling blindly with one hand to push the lengths of her heavy gown up and out of the way. "Ralltiir, Ukio…." He lifted his head and met her eyes then, waggling his eyebrows with a knowing leer. " _Sacorria_."

Leia shuddered, Han's teasing growl sparking a flurry of recollection from that evening of abandon in an empty meeting room in the Sacorrian Parliamentary Palace. She hadn't been able to look at a conference table without a hot flush rising to her cheeks ever since.

"Scoundrel," Leia murmured, even as she threaded her fingers through his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers. She kissed him deeply then, teasing him with brief flickers and slow, languid sweeps of her tongue against his, eliciting a groan that amplified tenfold the sweet desire coiling hot and tense in her belly.

She gasped against Han's parted lips when his fingers found and slipped beneath the scalloped edge of her lacy undergarment, sliding the flat of his palm to rest against her most sensitive flesh. She arched her hips reflexively, rising in counterpoint to grind against the delicious press of his hand, while the solid heat of him jutting hard, hot, and unimpeded against her bare thigh threatened to drive her out of her mind.

"You're wearing this to every official function while we're here," she mused aloud. "In fact, this may just replace your dress uniform altogether."

His answer was lost in her keening moan when he delved a little deeper, gently exploring between her thighs with a reverent touch that was imbued with the same tender emotion she could feel radiating from him through the Force. She grasped hold of the slender thread of connection and let its energy flow through her, letting it sink deeply into her veins and suffuse her entire being with the warm glow of Han's sincere devotion.

From a distance, the distinctive wailing of traditional pipes playing the familiar opening strains of the Anclosdti national anthem drifted to Leia's ears. "We better hurry," she murmured. "We haven't got much time."

Han lifted his head, keeping his hand in glorious motion at the apex of her thighs. "How long do you figure we got?"

"Mmmm. Ten minutes at most, before someone comes looking for us."

"Ain't much time."

"Enough to do to you what I had in mind when I dragged you here," Leia returned, reaching out to wrap a hand around him and giving him a gentle stroke.

Hissing a breath through clenched teeth, Han managed a chuckle. "Appreciate the offer," he said, his voice sounding a bit strained, "but I'll pass." Then, abruptly, he withdrew the exquisite touch of his fingers and, keeping his darkened eyes focused on hers, sat back on his heels and began to back away.

Bewildered, and suddenly feeling bereft and aching with need, Leia propped herself on bent elbows to gaze at Han with a befuddled look. She must look a sight, she thought fleetingly as she cast a look down the length of herself, flushed and panting as she was with her formal gown bunched up around the tops of her thighs. She lifted a eyebrow as he slipped off the chaise and rose to his feet. " _You'll pass?_ "

"Yeah," he said, gazing down at her with that same sparkle of joy and desire in his eyes that she'd seen earlier, mixed now with a gleam of carnal intent. "I'm a true clansman now, ain't I?"

"Yes, I...suppose you are."

"Right. Somethin' else I found out in my research: the clansmen have an unspoken code. A whole list of principles to live by. One of 'em is frugality. Gettin' the best clout for your credit, so to speak."

She furrowed her brow. "I don't see what that has to do with—".

"I ain't done," he interjected as he sank to his knees on the plush carpeting. "Another one is generosity." Grinning, he reached out and lightly gripped her hips, tugging her closer to the end of the chaise. "So, I'm gonna be generous, while makin' the most of my time."

Leia laughed softly. "And you say you aren't a diplomat."

"I am, but only when works in my favour. Ten minutes, right?"

"Eight now, give or take".

"Perfect," he rumbled, dropping his head to press a single molten kiss on the white lace at the apex of her thighs, sending frissons of sensation arcing through her body. "I'll give, you take." Then he lifted it again, and flashed a wanton half-grin. "We can talk about how to settle the difference later. But fair warning...we clansmen are well known to be tough nuts when negotiating deals, so don't expect I'm gonna let you off easy."

"I wouldn't hear of it," Leia breathed, settling back on the chaise as his dark head descended between her thighs once more, and all remaining conscious thought was swept away.

 **The End**


End file.
